


En Route

by mark_my_w0rds



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Ride, Car Sex, DNF, Established Relationship, First Meetings, Flirting, Hand Jobs, M/M, NSFW, Teasing, airport, dream is a simp, dreamnotfound, george likes danger, more than friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29819217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mark_my_w0rds/pseuds/mark_my_w0rds
Summary: George is finally coming to visit Dream! He can't even wait until they get back to his place.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 92





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Edit; This is now finished! 
> 
> Original Note; This isnt technically finished, but I'm posting what is written by popular demand of my friends. I do want to come back and finish it eventually, I just lost my motive halfway through and honestly it works where it ends right now... First time posting on ao3 btw, enjoy :)

Dream tapped the side of his disposable coffee cup with his fingers, desperately trying to stop himself from checking the time again. The last 2 checks, the minute hadn't even changed. The anxiety was warranted, though; it was 4 in the morning, he hadn't slept, and he was waiting for George. 

The airport itself wasn't anxiety inducing -- in fact it was quite the opposite. Dream had arrived about half an hour before George's flight from England was due, just to make sure he wasn't late. With those extra minutes, he wandered around the vast tiled halls of the airport, the air tepid and the lines and baggage carousels hardly busy. Without the bustle of the day, families and business people hurrying around, the terminal was rather relaxing. He bought a coffee from the Starbucks near the security check, and was nearly finished it now. 

Now all he needed was George. George; his best friend and partner in crime, one third of the iconic Dream Team. Calling him a best friend almost felt like a disservice at this point, they had so much more between them than a simple friendship. The lines had been blurred between what was ironic or not long ago, jokes had turned into later and later nights in discord calls, just the two of them. Those nights put little flutters in Dream's abdomen, and that same jittery lightness was returning to him now. He told himself it was the coffee. 

A buzzer sounded and Dream refocused his eyes on the sliding doors, which promptly opened, releasing a flood of people. Dream scanned the crowd searching for a flash of light blue. The pair had agreed they would wear their iconic merch hoodies so they would be able to identify each other easily. Even if George's blue was more common, Dream's lime green would stand out among the rush. The British mob dispersed outwards, and as the bodies thinned, Dream saw the knockoff Supreme logo. 

"George!" He called out excitedly and threw his arms in the air. The man in blue locked onto him right away and sped up his pace. His face was lit up with a wide smile that overpowered his jet-lagged eyes. 

"Hi Dream!" George beamed, standing in front of his friend. Dream let his arms fall and thump against his side and he gave an exasperated sigh. 

"Really? No hug?" He teased, hands moving to his hips. 

"Ugh, you're so needy," George rolled his eyes and lazy slid his arms under Dream's, who quickly wrapped him in a bear hug. They both laughed. "Lets go get my bag." 

Dream tried to get George to tell him about how his flight went, but he quickly discovered his friend had slept through nearly the entire thing, including the in flight meal. This lead their chats elsewhere as they made their way out to Dream's car, George's bag in tow. Dream popped the trunk, then threw in the suitcase and closed it again in a single fluid motion. 

"You didn't have to wheel my bag out here, you know," George crossed his arms, this argument had already been started inside. 

"Oh come on, George," Dream drawled, "just let me do something for you." 

"You're already letting me stay at your house and eat your food!" He scoffed with a smile, "What are you, some kind of simp?" 

"Ptff- shut up," Dream wheezed. George chuckled and took a step towards the passenger door, but before he could get any further Dream pushed passed him and opened the door with an excessive flourish. 

"For you," his voice shook with laughter, "m'streamer." Dream couldn't even hold his fedora-tipping pose before doubling over laughing. George rolled his eyes again and got in the car. 

"I was going to say you could sleep in the car if you needed to," Dream began, pulling out of the parkade, "but you've already slept the whole way here so maybe you're not tired." 

"I could always sleep, honestly," George laughed, only half joking. Even with 95% of nine hours spent asleep, George was still feeling the jetlag; but the truth was, he didn't want to sleep, he wanted to hang out with Dream. The banter had already begun to flow so smoothly, just as if they were in a call, he didn't want to miss out on any of it. Small life updates, witty one liners, video ideas, and casual flirting were all in the mix. Both boys were relieved it was just the same as it had always been. 

At some point, a song had come on the radio that Dream liked, and the conversations paused to listen to it and very poorly sing along. After the song, they continued to listen, simply enjoying each others company. Dream suddenly felt a weight on his thigh and glanced away from the road quickly -- it was George's hand. His brow furrowed in confusion and his eyes darted to George, who was looking out the window abscent-mindedly. Dream's eyes quickly shot forward again and he relaxed, not even knowing he had tensed up. A small smile snuck onto his lips. 

A few moments passed before Dream's eyes flickered downwards and back up again, and his breath hitched in his throat slightly. George had moved his thumb out and back in a few times, and the gentle caress had brought those fluttery feelings right back to Dream. He stared straight ahead as his hands moved on their own; his left slid down the wheel to the bottom half and gripped it there, while his right let go entirely and gently settled on top of George's hand. Or it would have, if it wasn't quickly ripped away by the passenger, accompanied with a string of stuttered apologies. Dream looked over for as long as driving would allow and found George's hand again, grasping it softly. 

"George no..." he consoled, "it's okay, you don't have to say sorry." 

"I'm sorry I- I mustn't have been paying attention..." He looked at the car door but did not pull his hand away. Dream lead George's hand back towards him. 

"You can leave it here," he said, placing their hands back where they were, "it's comfy like that." He ran his thumb over the back of George's hand reassuringly, copying the motion from a few seconds ago. A blush spread like wildfire over George's face, the warmth engulfing his skin as quick as an unattended blaze. He hid a pink cheek with his spare hand, but it wasn't enough to keep it a secret from Dream, who had cast another fleeting look over at the older boy. He smiled again, and went a little rosy himself. 

The silence was only cut by the radio playing softly. Both occupants felt like the temperature in the car had increased, but that feeling was only their lingering blushes. The awkwardness barely poked through the resounding contentment, the small strokes on each other's skin so gentle and sweet. At some point, Dream's hand simply rested while George's thumb rubbed soft circles into the Dream's thigh. He was trying to look lost in thought, playing it off as nothing while he focused hard on the outer white line of the road. It truly wasn't nothing, it was a haphazard plan with little guidance and a shaky end goal, but George had felt the flares going off in his gut and needed to do something to stop himself from melting entirely. Whether or not his actions were calming or fueling the blaze, he wasn't sure. 

Dream's breath had never quite returned to normal, it was still a little stiff, like he had to think about each individual action manually. Take in air through nose, allow it to fill lungs, release air through nose. He was pacing every inhale and exhale to stop himself from hyperventilating, he was hoping George didn't notice. The poor passenger was too busy trying to calm his own racing brain to see Dream's struggle. He had begun hyping himself up for something he felt like might be stupid, but fun anyways. His fingers curled inwards on his left hand, gripping Dream's thigh. They only stayed tightened for a moment, but the man in green really couldn't breath now. 

"George..." how had that simple motion affected him so greatly that that single word sounded so strained? George let out a sort of "tch-" noise. It was meant to sound like a laugh, but it was really just him releasing the air he was holding, pressurized in his lungs. Neither looked towards each other. This was nothing like a discord call. 

George pressed onwards with his plan however, feeling his face get warm again as he picked up a rhythm of tightening and untightening his grip, massaging Dream's thigh gently. Now it was taking much more effort to breath for Dream, he did all he couldn't to focus on driving and not on the burning sensation creeping over every inch of him. It was the worst on his thigh, where George's hand grasped and pulled softly; in the tips of his fingers, that moved against George's skin ever so slightly with his movements; and in his stomach, where the flutters had turned to crackling embers, lighting up every nerve in his body. His lime green hoodie made him feel overdressed. 

Dream felt the heat rising to his face. With each slow caress, George was getting more... exploratory. His palm no longer remained stationary, it pushed along with his fingers now, sliding inward on Dream's thigh. The rhythm continued, with every grasp travelling slightly further. Soon, George's fingertips were merely a twitch away from brushing against a far more sensitive area. 

"...George." This time there was a slight warning tone in Dreams voice, less breathy than the first time he had called the other's name. His hand had slid up to George's wrist, and had not done a single thing to stop him. But why was he doing this here? He needed to focus on driving, and there was still half an hour left until they reached Dream's apartment, maybe 45 minutes if the traffic got any worse. Why was he doing it in such an agonizing way? So painfully slow, almost teasing, almost- 

"Dree-eeam..." George sang lowly, snapping Dream out of his accusatory thoughts. George surprised himself with how much composure he kept in his voice, his heart felt like it could have exploded out of his chest from beating so hard. Dream blinked and stole a glace at George again, who was now fully blushing with his head towards him but his eyes cast away, smirking. 

"You're so dumb..." Dream choked out, his left hand gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles had gone slightly pale. His other hand just barely grasped George's wrist, he wasn't about to interrupt the passenger's path. 

George let his hand slide into the bend at the top of Dream's thigh, the back of his fingers grazing Dream's bulge through his jeans. This earned a small gasp, and a grin spread across George's face along with another deep blush. Dream snapped his head towards him and stared for as long as he could. The eye contact was intense. Dreams right hand closed around George's wrist and he gave a gentle squeeze before returning both hands to ten and two on the wheel. If he was going to let this boy distract him, it would probably be smart to keep the car stable. George giggled, his hand resting a hair's width away from the crotch of the driver's jeans, which had changed shape slightly now that a bit of blood had rushed there. Dream cleared his throat and adopted sly smile and a devious look in his eye. 

"George... you're really gonna- why are you trying to distract me right now?" He had tried to sound confident and smooth but stumbled a little. His breathing had never fixed itself. 

"You're a good driver, it's fine!" George's voice was perfectly normal as he slowly tightened his grip on Dream's thigh, "This road is really boring anyways," his fingers ventured over the zipper and back, "it doesn't need your full attention, right?" Dream laughed lowly and shook his head, his smile didn't leave. 

"Fine," he said, as though he had put up a fight at all, "you're so needy..." He copied George's words from the airport, dripping with sarcasm. The Brit paused, he needed to throw Dream back off his game. His hand followed the zipper up swiftly to the button, and he undid it with hardly any effort. It was lucky that his jeans were a more loose, comfortable fit, it made it quite easy for George to slide his hand past the waistband, catch the zipper with his thumb, and trail downwards a few inches. With all 4 fingers dragging straight down the front of Dream's underwear, it made sense that he gasped again. 

How the fuck did he do that so quickly..? 

Seemed like there was a perk to being left-handed. 

Dream's mind went wild as George now put his whole hand down his pants and massaged his bulge though only one thin layer of fabric. He was getting hard quickly, and driving was proving to be an obstacle, keeping his hands off of George. His grip on the steering wheel tightened further. 

George trailed back upwards and traced the waistband of Dream's boxers with a finger, making him shudder. He hooked the same finger into the waistband and tugged playfully. 

"This looks so uncomfortable now, let me fix that..." George teased, earning another glance from the driver. Even though their gaze only met briefly, both could see the lust in the others eyes. 

This was going to be a long drive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finishing off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I didn't expect the first half to get all that traction, thanks sm !! I finished this because I liked it and that was a big encouragement :) I have a ton more ideas, maybe stick around to read more? 
> 
> Also I have a twitter now where I'll update and talk about fics: @w0rdstwt

The tense air in the car hit Dream's sensitive skin for a moment, but it was quickly replaced by the feeling of George's slightly chilled hand. The passenger deftly freed Dream's hardening cock from his underwear, wrapping a hand around the shaft once it sprang upwards. Dream inhaled sharply and gripped the steering wheel with both hands so tightly his knuckles whitened. He had to drive. No matter what, he had to pilot this goddamn vehicle. 

George let out a nervous snicker as his hand moved loosely up and down, the friction causing Dream to become fully hard. He pulled his hand upwards and let his thumb play with the tip, rubbing small circles and feeling smug when the younger man produced a strangled gasp. He was very focused on keeping his hand from shaking, he wanted to at least appear confident even though he could hardly breath. His own arousal was beginning to get to him; he pressed his legs together. 

After a few more purposeful strokes, Dream's breathing had become erratic, and he felt like he may go cross-eyed from how intensly he was staring at the road ahead. The pleasure was pulling his brain in every direction, thank fuck it was still quite early in the morning so the majority of commuters were going the opposite way as them. Traffic would have been terrible right now, it was already difficult to stay aware of the few cars around them. His hands clenched and shifted about on the steering wheel while George sped up and slowed down at will, teasing. 

"How's the road, Dream?" George asked breathily, his strokes falling into a slow and steady rhythm. 

"Shut... up..." Dream muttered, not daring to move his eyes. He gritted his teeth and tried not to moan, because he knew it would only add to George's ego. 

"Fine, I can do that, I'll just busy my mouth." George moved before he could lose the confidence, leaning over to the driver and ducking under his right arm, not giving him a single second to process his words before taking the head of Dream's cock in his mouth. 

"George!" Dream cried, his right hand releasing the wheel and hanging in the air, head tilting downwards in disbelief. The shock drew a breathy whine from his throat and he cursed himself in his head. George hummed around his cock, satisfied. Dream promised himself he would figure out a way to get back at this bastard. But it was hard for him to stay mad with a tongue twirling over the the head of his cock, the rough texture clearing his mind of any sort of revenge plots. 

George had slipped the shoulder strap of his seatbelt over his head long ago, giving him nearly a full range of motion. He used this to bob up and down a few times, earning a low, regretful noise from the driver. He was quite pleased with himself when he felt Dream's right hand settle onto his back. He released his mouth with a small popping sound and gripped the base of him with is left hand solidly. 

"You're... you're a little bigger than I uhm- thought you'd be..." he glanced up at Dream's red face, smugness growing with every second as he watched his parted lips struggle to form a snarky response. 

"You- you're such an idiot." Dream's left hand was white-knuckled again, and his eyes were burning from being fixated on the stark lines of the road without so much as a blink. George chuckled, he felt powerful. He lowered his head back down over Dream and kept going until his tip poked the back of his throat. The driver gasped at the pressure, and George adopted a rhythm that continued to pull strained noises from him. Dream's hand slid up along George's back and settled in his hair, which sent a shiver through George as he felt his hair become a handle. 

A small push while George was lowest sent his cock to the back of his throat, and Dream huffed out a curse. George tried not to gag and held there for a moment, before going back to his motions, slightly faster this time. The buildings passing by were beginning to look more and more familiar, they were probably only a few minutes from his house now, but Dream didn't know if he had a few left in him. His head was spinning, every breath came out as a moan, and his left hand was starting to feel numb on the steering wheel. 

"G-George..." He barely took his mouth off Dream to respond. "Are you close..?" 

"To... To home. Close to h-home." Panting, Dream pulled back on George's hair slightly to lift his head, "you- you need to at least look like- like an actual passenger." George didn't want to stop, but he was right. A more residential area meant cars were much closer together, and it would be easier to tell there was one man bent over another while driving along.

"Ugh, whatever," George sat up and wiped his mouth on the back of his right hand, a slick smirk on his reddened lips. His left hand did not, however, listen to Dream's command, as it stayed on his shaft lazily stroking, just barely keeping Dream buzzing. His uneven breaths started to stabilize and his fingers loosened against the steering wheel as both hands returned to 10 and 2. At least this was manageable. He glanced at the passenger, who was smiling to himself, proud for making a simple task difficult and torturous. 

Dream kept his head forward, repeating the directions to his own apartment complex to himself to remain focused. He turned into the underground parkade, mechanically turning through the car maze to get to his parking spot. 258. 258. He chanted the number in his head over and over to keep himself from veering into the other parked cars as George played with his tip again. He was finally given a break from the pleasure when he put the car in park, George's arm moving out of his way. 

Dream sighed heavily, the empty concrete wall in front of him matching the cold feeling of his skin without George's touch. It quickly returned after the click of a seatbelt sounded beside him. George's body leaning back over his caused him to raise both hands off the wheel in surprise. He gasped at the hasty mouth that took him deep, and the hand that gripped the base of his shaft. 

"George! What the hell..." he called out; all that work to calm himself down a few minutes ago had been quickly destroyed. George hummed in place of a laugh, the vibrations around Dream's cock sending a shot of pleasure through him. His hands came to rest on George's back and head, regaining a grip on his hair. He shuddered as George's hand followed his mouth's rhythm. 

"Fuck," the twists in his lower stomach got tighter and tighter, creating a burn deep within him that spread out onto his skin in tingles. His blood felt like lava in his veins. The heightened sensitivity from George's teasing almost made the pleasure overstimulating, he knew he wouldn't last much longer. George lapped up the precum leaking from Dream's tip, feeling how Dream shivered at his rough tongue. He took a fist each of George's hair and sweater, head pressed back against the headrest and moans pouring from his open mouth. He couldn't suppress them anymore, George's ego was probably bigger than the car by now. 

Dream thrusted upwards and pushed his hand down, nailing the back of George's throat, who luckily didn't gag. Arousal mixed with the power trip of reducing Dream to a whining mess had clouded his senses, so he let Dream push him down onto his cock over and over. George reserved that he wouldn't tell Dream it turned him on. His thrusts were a little restrained by the seatbelt that still laid across his hips, but George didn't mind doing the work, he was in control after all. Well, he was, until Dream shoved his head down and held him there, keeling forward as all the air left his lungs. George knew he did a great job, hearing the string of strained curse words come from above him and feeling the heat of his cum on his tongue and down his throat.

George drew a few more breathy whimpers from Dream in his afterglow, running his tongue over his tip again and hastily swallowing. Dream's cock twitched and he writhed a little, hands still tightly latched onto the man below him. He let his head fall back against the headrest again, eyes closed and panting.

"George- George what the hell... what was _that?!_ " He choked out between breaths. George sat himself back up with a solid smirk on his face. He looked at his disheveled friend and then to his hand, slimy from spit, among other things. 

"Do you keep napkins or something in here?" He asked, gesturing to the glove box. Dream looked at him, stunned, not even needing to say 'why are you acting completely normal right now?' George laughed and found the napkins himself. 

"You couldn't even wait, huh?" Dream had regained his breath and his attitude, and was doing his jeans back up. 

"Nope," George wiped his mouth and balled up the napkin, "can we go inside now? I'm tired." 

" _You're_ tired?!"


End file.
